After two weeks of aimlessly wondering around with a dreadful anxiety as a companion, she is slowly starting to turn the dimmer down on her radiation. She is still here no doubt, but she is getting bored now.
Instead of letting my mentality slip, I have spent the past lonely days and nights acknowledging her and carefully carrying on with my days as usual. Let me give myself a moment here to pat myself on the back and say a huge well done for showing some sort of strength with this one.
It still gets every time how sour I can feel even when things are absolutely fine and dandy in my life. For some reason, I still find myself screaming Why to the high heavens because it just doesn’t make sense for me to be feeling the way I feel when my life is running smoothly and I have a great routine. And then I switch my mind back on and remind myself, ‘Oh yeah, I almost forgot I have a chronic illness…’
I hate saying that I have an illness. Not in the way that I feel I haven’t accepted it (although I do have my moments) – but in by saying so I feel like I am using it as an excuse. Does anyone else feel that way with theirs?
I was having a catch up with a rather skeptical friend this week, who has always been quite closed and blind sided to like likes of depression and other disorders. I was explaining that I was having a bad time with anxiety and that I was being productive and just seeing when it will pass this time around. She looked at me and began to explain kindly to me that sometimes overthinking about things makes it worse.
And then she started to explain the anxiety she feels when things in her house are messy, and she gets really uncomfortable and frustrated when things aren’t tidy, and the more she lets it get on top of her, the worse she feels about it.
I then proceeded to look at her blindly.
What I said in reply was that I was at a good place in my life right now, and that the anxiety I feel I believed was different then the normal environmental anxiety you feel on a daily basis.
What I wanted to say was, that if the anxiety I feel offered me a one way ‘no-concequence to others’ cliff jumping ticket, I would happily take it without question and still have a smile on my face when I reached the bottom.
I guess, even with a label, people who have never experienced the wrath of the storm will more than likely never take it as serious as it actually is.
Which is okay.
But it does tend to push you a little bit further in to that lonely box of yours sometimes.
On a lighter note, my anxiety is still lingering, but I am getting to the point when I can see a stable 5 at the end of the tunnel, and I feel like I can muster the stamina to reach it. Bipolar is like the weather, it is unpredictable, it is inevitable, but so is the sun.
So as I (hopefully) wander in to the sunlight, I will do my best to appreciate the good days, and take my mind off the fact that I will indeed, shift again someday, as that it how we are built.
Here’s to the Summer.